The First Snowfall

By Carol Kehlmeirer

Opening my eyes, expecting to see a shadowy before dawn morning, I was amazed to see the room bathed in a glowing light.

Sliding out of bed I tiptoed down the hall where the kitchen, too, was immersed in brightness.

Outside snowflakes gracefully pirouetted down covering the earth in the first snowfall of the winter.

Through the window the wide full moon seemed close enough to touch and the earth glistened in its glow.

Opening the door, the frosty air rushed in and caressed my cheeks. I breathed in the clean fragrance and like a child opened my mouth to taste the snowflakes.

Trees, once black against the sky, were like tall ivory towers reaching to Heaven.

Glowing. Breathtaking. Peaceful. Untouched by man and beast.

The silence of the morning was a blessing to my ears.

The crisscrosses on the familiar old fence were pure and white and shinning. The climbing clematis vine, dormant and stripped of its blossoms, seemed alive beneath the white snow frosting.

And the stillness! The blessing of the silent morning gave me peace.

Peace I give to you, echoed in my mind.

What greater gift? I thought.

The past weeks had been a healing time for me. I had felt the prayers of family and friends. Now, I felt the promise of God’s healing.

The aging cedar yard swing where we sat to enjoy the fragrances of fresh spring mornings, absorb cool summer evenings and swing softly in the crisp autumn afternoons was a silhouette of white in the moonlight.

Heaps of snow cascaded where summer vegetables had thrived.

Before me in the pure stillness of the early morning was the peace that passes all human understanding.

God’s voice was clearer. God’s presence nearer.

There in the quiet morning I absorbed God’s peace and felt His healing arms wrap around me.

The eastern sky yawned and splashes of red skipped across the horizon, followed by the rising morning star ... warm, bright and golden.

I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving as the sun rose higher and reflected its warmth across the spotless blanket of the first snowfall.

the end